


Once

by khenq



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Batman and Joker team up, Bruce Wayne whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Joker whump, M/M, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-07 15:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11626914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khenq/pseuds/khenq
Summary: Batman and Joker team up against a common foe, so, naturally, disasters strike.





	1. Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Rating of the story might change, and some chapters may have specific warnings, so beware.
> 
> I know where this is going about as much as you do.

“Bats.”

Bruce felt like he was submerged underwater, the voice calling him sounding distorted and distant.

“Batsy, come on,”

He didn't want to… get up? Wake up?

All he knew was that he wanted to stay where he was. Away from the voice. Not that he had anything against it. He just liked it here. With his parents. They were dining, having watched a play beforehand. It was nice. Domestic.

“Come on, it's time we go Bats,” the voice pleaded with him.

The man felt sorry for whoever it was. They sounded sad. And vaguely familiar, like someone from a long forgotten dream.

It made him ache for reasons he couldn't name.

Instead of focusing at the sudden melancholic feeling, he turned his attention back to his mother and father. They seemed content. It made Bruce feel happy too.

“Snap out of it Bats,” called out the distressed voice.

_ Snap out of what? _ It wasn't like he was asleep or anything… Besides, he hasn't visited his parents in so long, he wasn't about to–

“They're not real!”

_ Oh. _

_ But. _

_ Then what was– _

“Bruc–” the voice was abruptly cut off.

The millionaire looked around, dazed.

“Bruce, are you alright?” asked his mother worriedly.

The man in question blinked, once, twice, before replying, “Yes, I'm fine,” all the while his mind was filled of images of a strange man, simultaneously familiar and not, with a wide smile and shockingly green eyes.

His heart ached.


	2. Upon a Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by prompt #258 by lego-batjokes-prompts.

“Damn it!” the Joker couldn't help but yell.

He didn't expect for his day to go like this. Though in hindsight, it was one of those times when Batman and he got together to fight a common foe, something which never failed to go spectacularly wrong.

So now here they were, two enemies, locked into an underground hideout, with one of them having been knocked out, mumbling deliriously under his breath. The only good thing in this situation was that, at the very least, the Bat didn't seem too agitated. The clown was far too exhausted to handle an angry vigilante right now.

If they wanted to stay alive, they had to get out, fast.

The man they were both after was a serial killer who used a toxin that was a mix between Crane's and Joker's own to lull his victims into some sort of a coma, where it's victims saw who knows what. Naturally, anyone who came in contact with the poison winded up dead in less than three days.

The Batman was after justice, as always.

Joker just wanted to punish the guy, whoever he was, for using his toxin without permission, as well as for being so unforgivably unoriginal.

It should have been simple. But now he had to play nurse for the Batman, while simultaneously figuring out how save them from becoming yet another of the 'doctor’s’ experiments.

He could hear the rhythmic sound of steps, coming down the stairway leading to the dungeon.

“Okay Batsy, time to wakey-wakey!”

The Bat didn't seem to have heard him. Typical.

“Batsy, come on,” persisted the criminal. The unconscious man twitched, as if in recognition, but didn't acknowledge the words otherwise. He just kept mumbling about his parents.

_ Good to know why I'm being stood up _ , thought the trickster.

“Come on, it's time we go Bats,” he continued to plead.

No reaction.

_ How rude. _ Not to mention that he's the one who always insisted that team work is the key to success.

“Snap out of it Bats.”

The steps were coming closer.

The Joker felt laughter bubbling up, but managed to swallow it down.

_ Fight, damn it! How do I know I'm worth enough to you if I'm not even worth a fight anymore? _

As soon as the thought came, he did start giggling.

_ They were like a fucking married couple! _

“They're not even real!”

He could hear the door being unlocked.

_ One last chance. _

“Bruc–”


	3. A Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something new, yay!

Joker came back to it slowly, groaning because of the pounding headache he had been oh so kindly bestowed him with. His eyes were covered with a strip of fabric, which was, conveniently, relatively thin.

The clown laughed.

_Amateurs are such idiots._

He ‘looked’ around, noting the darkness surrounding him, as well as the figure it obscured. Too bad he couldn't see the face all that well. Lastly, he realised that he was tied to a chair. As in, good, old fashioned kind of tied up. Regular ropes and all that.

_Nice going, noticing the most obvious last._

_Good Lord._ If the creeping moron started an evil monologue about how life was so unfair, and how they're going to rectify all the wrongs in the world, he was going to scream.

Also, what was up with the ‘dark and broody’ aesthetic? He was 'blinded’, _ha-ha,_ after all.

_Sometimes I wonder if people are allergic to logic._

“Ah, so you're awake at last,” stated a remarkably unremarkable voice. _Seriously, it must be a talent, leaving this little impact._

Joker just knew he was going to die. If nothing else, from all the clichés that he was forced to endure. There were lines, _lines,_ the kind you just don't cross. Like acting like a movie villain. It was distasteful, not to mention offensive to those making a living out of killing.

The tied up criminal barked another laugh, cutting off the _incredibly fascinating_ bad guy cosplay. Maybe that's the profession the man should have chosen. He would have grabbed _all_ the awards.

_So much raw talent, dear me!_

The Prince of Crime could practically feel the dirty glare aimed his way. Good thing there were no laser-eyes involved, least there was a smoking hot clown on the chair. _Oh wait, there already is._

He wondered how dear Brucey was doing. It would be such a shame, if both of them were too drugged up to function. Who would save them then? The police? What a _joke!_ One needed a brain to be able to find whatever, after all.

Joker looked up as the other man angrily cleared his throat.

_Cleared. His. Throat._

_God save us all from idiocy, for humanity shall fail spectacularly._

“If you don't mind–”

“Actually, I have to admit that I do, in fact, mind. See, for one, you're giving us, professional criminals, some really bad rep. You're stupid, and clichéd, and so damn bland,”

The clown resisted the urge to laugh. He could just imagine the other's expression, all the anger and embarrassment. _Perfect._

“You should really fix up your performance,” he continued gleefully, “because I don't want to be associated with you, but that would mean becoming an upstanding citizen and that ain't gonna happen. So. Do. Something. About all this. Second, you suck, or did I already say that?”

“I–”

“Hush, I'm not done yet. Patience a is a virtue, haven't you heard? Lastly I'm going to _kill_ you when opportunity presents itself, so you should probably give that some thought as well before actually doing anything. I mean, you're dying no matter what, but you might save yourself _some_ pain.”

Silence.

And then – laughter. But it wasn't the Joker who was laughing.

The clown raised an eyebrow as the obnoxious sound went on and on.

Finally, the villain- _wannabe_ managed to calm down somewhat, and, through giggles, said:

“Oh, and people say you _aren't_ funny!"


	4. Forgotten

Bruce thought he was losing his mind. Whatever he did, brightly-dressed figure always seemed to lurk at the corners of his mind, and now, reality, as he caught flashes of the man with his peripheral vision. Every time he saw a flash of purple, his heart sped up, entire body filling with adrenaline, but whenever he turned around, there was no one in sight. Nor anything to confuse him with.

It was starting to wear on him, and it didn't help that he still didn't know what that voice he had heard was. It couldn't be real, but at the same time… it didn't sound fake. At all. Bruce was torn between feeling worried about whoever was speakings, and angry at him. The speaker sounded like he was in deep trouble. The way he had cut off couldn't have meant anything good either. At the same time, he had also insinuated that Bruce's parents weren't real, which was obviously a lie.

_ Maybe I really should see a therapist, considering that I'm treating a voice I'm hearing in my head as real. _

But why did the voice sound so familiar? And what about the purple-clad man? Things like that didn't just appear from nowhere. It was possible that the voice belonged to the green-haired man, very likely, in fact. They both had appeared at about the same time.

How did he know that  _ infuriating _ man?

_ Wait. Why infuriating, I don't even know him– _

Except apparently he did. Maybe he had met him before… But if he had forgotten him once, why would he be remembering him now? And in such a, ah, strange fashion. Obtrusive. Persistent.

He could feel the answer, right on the tip of his tongue. He was so close, if only he could reach  _ out– _

“Bruce?”


	5. Questioned

_“Oh, and people say you aren't funny!”_

“What? People really say that?” asked the Joker, an expression of fake hurt firmly plastered across his face. “That's not very nice of them to say, not to mention that it won't help me get any better either! Has nobody ever heard of constructive criticism?”

“Wha-”

“You know, like when I explained to you in detail why you are a terrible criminal, that was constructive. I pointed out _exactly_ why that is the case, so now you'll know what you need to improve on,” continued the clown, completely unbothered. “Everyone's a critic these days,” he finished with a sigh.

“So you say I'm not a good villain?” questioned the man, now having moved right in front of the Prince of Crime. Joker wished he would lean in just a little bit more.

“Yes, have been since the beginning, were you not listening?”

“I have, but you know,” was the reply, smugness clear as day in his voice, “If I'm that bad, what does that make you?”

The jester tilted his head to the side, as if in thought. “Now, that's unfair. Defending oneself against complete and utter idiocy is an extremely difficult task, often impossible, even. Maybe if I were a moron, I would have seen this coming. So I guess my being caught by you makes me a genius,” he concluded with a grin. “And Batsy too. Maybe we should have brought a Robin along, to even the odds and all that.”

The other sputtered in angry disbelief, which went unnoticed once more.

“Speaking of bats, what does that rip off toxin of yours do, exactly?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” was the snide retort. “And it's not a rip off.”

“You mixed Crane's and my toxins. Those are copyrighted you know. Now stop crying to me about being pathetic, and answer my question.”

“It's different for everyone. Something better than reality, something you're afraid to wake up from and return to your actual life. I don't think your 'Bats’ will wake up on time,” smile evident in his voice.

“What do you mean by that?” asked the clown warily.

“Well, any reality without you in it must be pure heaven for him, don't you agree?”

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was inspired by prompt #58 by lego-batjokes-prompts. (I'm a bad person because this isn't Lego verse.)
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism will be appreciated, as this is my first serious attempt at writing a multi-chapter fic, as well as English not being my first language and my lack of in-depth study of creative writing.


End file.
